


I Am A Nightmare, You Are A Miracle

by themurderscene



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2003), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Consensual Underage Sex, Implied Dependency Issues, M/M, misinterpreted feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-10
Updated: 2016-12-10
Packaged: 2018-09-07 17:46:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8810107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themurderscene/pseuds/themurderscene
Summary: Renoir would always be there for his master, no matter what.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Something I whipped up after reading MNT Gaiden and analysing the possible dynamics of Renoir and Raphael's relationship

     Due to all the snow on the ground, the night sky above Renoir glowed with an almost eerie yellow light, reflective of all the city lights still on even at two in the morning. He sighed as he sat back on his hands and stared out at the bit of skyline he could see from the roof of the building that he was on— it was cold, but not unbearably so to humans, though he had a fire going on the inside of a trash lid since he was cold-blooded now and needed warmth at all times in order to maintain the correct body temperature. The small portable speakers that he'd "borrowed" from Mikey were playing some indie punk music that he secretly liked to indulge in every once in a while, and his hand held his fourth hard lemonade (he'd stolen them from Mrs. Jones the last time he'd been over visiting Shadow). It was pretty good, though not really giving him much of a buzz. Maybe his metabolism was too fast for that. Who knew.   
     "There ya are,"   
     Renoir didn't turn his head at the sound of his master talking to him, instead dropping his head to the side and continuing to listen to the lyrics of the song that was playing. 

      _"You constantly make it impossible to make conversation_  
      _Keep us comatose but audible_  
      _And I like it the farther I get out."_

     "Hey, didjya hear me, runt?" Raphael was closer now, right behind him.  
     "I heard you, Master," Renoir sighed, the action earning him a smack upside the head— it wasn't as hard as it usually was, but it still hurt.  
     "Show some respect whenya talk to yer master,"  
     "Sorry," Renoir said more clearly, taking a swig from his lemonade as he saw Raphael sit down next to him out of the corner of his eye.   
     "What're ya doin' out here drinkin'? Impersonatin' me?"  
     "Thinking,"  
     "Oh boy, we all know what happens when ya go 'n do _dat,"_  
     Renoir chuckled softly, the sound fading out into the quiet music coming from the speakers. A new song was playing now, but still from the same band as before.

      _"For twelve years I've held it all together but a night like this is begging to pull me apart_  
      _I played it quiet, left you deep in conversation_  
      _I felt uncool and hung out around the kitchen_  
      _I remember I kept thinking that I know you never would,_  
      _and now I know I want to kill you like only a best friend could."_

     "Dese lyrics're fuckin' depressing," Raphael grumbled, "No wonder yer fuckin' sad all the damn time,"  
     "I know," Renoir drank the last of his lemonade and chucked the bottle over the side of the building— when it shattered upon impact, he continued, "The sound of it is what I like, mostly,"  
     A grunt of begrudging understanding, followed by Raphael nudging Renoir and mumbling, "Lookit me when we're talkin', asshole,"  
     Renoir shuffled around to face him, sitting with his legs criss-crossed and hands in his lap, shoulders slumped and eyes on Raph; Raphael was sitting with one knee up and his arm resting atop it, the other hand on the ground behind him to support his weight as he leaned back on it. Cocking his head to the side with brows furrowed as per usual, he asked, "Didya really just come up here in da cold t' listen to depressin' music 'n look up at the sky? Or is there somethin' else?"  
     As jarring as it was to have Raph legitimately asking him about his thoughts and feelings, Renoir wasn't in the mood to be suspicious of his master's actions, so he shrugged and replied, "There's been something on my mind lately,"  
     "Which is?"  
     Turning up his mouth and biting his bottom lip with his head lowering, Renoir ran through the best way to word what he was going to say next, which was, "Mm... I've been wondering," He lifted his head back to Raphael, "Have you ever dated anybody?"  
     Raphael's eyebrows raised. "Any particular reason for askin'?"  
     Rubbing his face, Renoir shrugged again. "It's just, Davianna told me a couple days ago that you were really flustered when she tried to kiss you, so I thought that maybe you haven't, you know, been with anybody—"  
     "I ain't really got'a lot of options when it comes'ta gettin' laid, so no, I've never been with anybody,"  
     "You're a virgin?!" Renoir sat up straight in shock. "But you're so..." His voice trailed off and he looked away.  
     "I'm 'so' what?"   
     "Nevermind, that's-that's all I wanted to ask,"   
     He moved to turn away, but Raph caught him by the shoulder and yanked him back around to be facing him once again, Renoir squeezing his fists tighter and not letting their eyes meet. "No, yer gonna tell me what you were 'boutta say, er else I'm gonna whip ya through the fuckin' roof," Raph growled.  
     Anxiety turned Renoir's chest cold, his fingers beginning to tremble and heart pounding a bruise into his ribcage. "I was just gonna say that... with how you look, I thought you'd been with a shitton of girls or something,"  
     "How I look?" Raph's inflection was one of confusion. "What's dat supposta mean?"  
     "Y-you know..." Renoir scratched the back of his head and lowered his gaze to the ground. "Big, strong, all 'tough guy'... like that kind of stuff. All of your scars, and your pointy teeth... It's hot, to a girl at least,"  
     One eyebrow was raised as Raphael tightened the grip he had on Renoir's upper arm, prompting Renoir to meet his gaze and expression, which was one he'd never seen on his master's face— it was gentle, expectant. "Ya really think that way about me?" He murmured, his nails digging into the skin of Renoir's arms. "What else d'ya think?"  
     "Uhm," Curling his toes, Renoir chewed his lip. "That you're not as tough as you say you are. That... you're mean and angry because you care too much about the people you love, and that I really... like that, about you. How you're more than just your appearance,"  
     For a couple seconds, Raph didn't say anything, but after what seemed like forever, his cheeks turned a darker green than what they usually were and he leaned forward, Renoir furrowing his brows at the action; when Raph didn't stop leaning, he tried to move out of the way— before he could, however, their lips met in a harsh and off-center kiss that had Renoir's eyes shooting open wide and his hands flying into the air in shock. For a moment, he couldn't think, couldn't breathe, couldn't do anything besides try and process the fact that his _master was kissing him._ On the _lips._ What the— "Fuck?!" He yelped once his lips had departed from Raph's own.  
     "Shuddup," Raphael hissed under his breath, his face still dangerously close to Renoir's and arms on either side of him.  
     "Master, what the _fuck_ are you—"  
     "I said _shut up,_ Renoir,"  
     Renoir did as he was told, however reluctantly, trying not to make any noise when Raph pulled him by the thighs onto his lap in one swift motion, embarrassment flaring on his face in the form of dark yellow-green spreading over his cheeks under his mask. "Renoir, I... you're da only person who really cares about me," Raph whispered, "'n now, I know that ya like me, too, right?" He nuzzled Renoir's cheek and under his neck, the gentle sensation sending tingles down his shell.   
     "But I'm not eighteen yet," Renoir's voice shook as Raph licked under his jaw and nibbled at the skin there. "Ah, M-Master, that—"  
     "Dat's right, I'm yer master, so ye have to obey me," Raph breathed as he pulled back to look Renoir in the eyes, "So obey me by not thinkin' about that, alright?"  
     Trembling, Renoir nodded, Raphael kissing him again, though not as roughly as last time. The feeling of Raph moving his lips against his was enough to make his brain turn fuzzy and his legs to shake, though out of what emotion he couldn't tell. "Yer shakin'," Raph's voice was rough and had an edge of humor in it, "Thought ya'd be experienced in this, Mr. Ladies Man,"   
     "N-no, I've never a-actually—" Renoir bit his lip when Raphael licked and mouthed at his neck, forcing himself to continue, "Actually, done anything before,"  
     "Good," Raph murmured in his ear, "I wanna be yer first and yer last,"  
     Eyes going wide at his words, Renoir covered his face with his hands and whimpered in embarrassment, resulting in a chuckle from Raphael as he commented, "Cute,"  
     Renoir gazed up at him as he lowered his hands from his face, eyebrows furrowed, though his eyes were still open as far as they could go and his mouth was turned up. "Have you, always thought I was cute..?"   
     "Sure I guess. Ever since I metya I've thought ya were kinda pretty in yer own way," Raphael raked his eyes over Renoir's body briefly before finishing, "Can't say I ain't never thought'a 'bout makin' ya suck my dick,"  
     As flustered as that made him, Renoir couldn't help but feel... proud? Was that the right word? That Raph thought he was attractive. It meant that he was irresistible to everybody, even his master— the self-esteem boost he got from that was enough to make him cocky. "Why didn't you ask me to?" He questioned in what he hoped was a sultry voice, trailing his fingers around the very obvious bulge in the plasteron between Raph's legs.  
     "Well, I'm askin' ya now," Raphael grunted, his breathing becoming a little heavier. "Ya sure didn't oppose this fer long. Is it 'cause I called ya pretty?"  
     Renoir shrugged and fiddled with his fingers, a smirk spreading across his face. "I like knowing that I'm completely irresistible to even my master,"  
     Raphael raised his hand as if to hit him, but instead it cupped the back of his neck and yanked him into a kiss that was all tongue and teeth, Renoir feeling the telltale pressure and heat build in his crotch. He whimpered into the kiss, the cockiness he'd felt earlier melting away as his inexperience came back to the surface with each delve of Raphael's tongue into his mouth. "Mmh," He moaned, pulling back to catch his breath, "Ahh, M-Master, my... my plasteron,"   
     Not appearing to hear him, Raph licked his lips and cheek with desperate motions and heavy breaths, his hands grabbing at every part of him, including between his legs. The contact was brief but intense, ripping a breathless mewl from him that had Raph growling. "Bet ya want me to get ya off, huh? Want my hands on yer dick?" He pressed the heel of his hand into Renoir's bulge.  
     Renoir moaned at the action, looking up at Raph through half-lidded eyes as he nodded his head. "Y-yes, please, Master,"  
     "Fuck," Raph hissed through his teeth, "I love hearin' ya call me that,"  
     A whine escaped past Renoir's lips and he rolled his hips into Raph's hand, which was still cupped to his crotch. "Ahha, I feel, so desperate..."  
     Biting Renoir's neck, Raph mumbled, "Yer really workin' me up, kid, God..."  
     "S-sorry—"  
     Renoir was cut off by Raph slipping a finger inside his plasteron and touching the hard cock that was hidden inside, the ungodly sensitivity of his dick causing his legs to jerk and his arms to tingle; he choked out a moan and latched onto Raph's shoulders, his nails digging in. "Ssensitive, too sensitive," He breathed.  
     Raphael pulled his dick out from the plasteron and gave it a tug, earning him a soft cry for his efforts. "I'll let you come," He grunted, speeding up the movements of his hand on Renoir's dick, "But you'll hafta let me fuck you after, alright?"  
     "I-I don't know if I'm—"   
     A squeeze of his dick cut off his protest and he whined, nodding as his hips bucked into Raph's hand. "Okay, okay, you can... fuck me,"  
     Four pumps later, Renoir was whimpering and coming all over Raph and himself, every part of his body trembling both from how flustered he was and the knowledge that Raphael was now going to— "Get on yer shell," Raphael instructed, lightly pushing Renoir off of his lap. Complying, Renoir shuffled backwards and then laid on his back, the position somewhat uncomfortable but not enough to bother him terribly. Between his legs, Raphael had his dick held in his fingers— it was _big,_ way too big for Renoir to even comprehend, around seven inches and too thick for him to even fit in his mouth, probably. He was both turned on and scared. "'m not really sure it'll fit," Raphael commented.   
     "You'll h-have to stretch me first," Renoir told him. "With your f-fingers,"  
     Raphael wet his fingers with his mouth, Renoir watching him as he did so; he hadn't really gotten the chance to notice before, but Raph looked just as flustered and anxious as Renoir himself felt, his face all dark green and hands slightly shaking as he held up one of Renoir's legs and moved his other hand from his mouth to Renoir's ass— his eyelids were so low on his eyes it looked like he was falling asleep, and his lips were perpetually parted, as though he was about to talk. It was kind of hot. "You ready?" Raph asked, voice all breath.  
     Expression one of expectant apprehension, Renoir nodded, watching (and feeling) Raphael slowly push a finger inside him, the size of said finger alone enough to stretch him to his limit. He hissed when Raph tried to insert another one, shaking his head and saying, "Not yet, I-I'm not, not stretched enough,"  
     "Right, right,"   
     Raphael worked his finger in and around for a short time, nudging every part of Renoir's insides until Renoir couldn't take the teasing anymore and cried out, "Please, p- _please,_ just put it in me, I can't— I _need_ it,"   
      _"Fuck,"_ Raphael growled, Renoir seeing his weirdly wet dick twitch, "Don' say shit like that,"   
     Before Renoir could make a sarcastic comment, Raph pushed his dick inside of him, basically shoving it in without any kind of time for adjustment, resulting in Renoir crying out in both shock and pain; ceasing in his movements, Raph whispered quickly, "Sorry, sorry, sorry... too excited,"  
     "I-it's okay, just... go ea-easy on me,"  
     So Raph did, starting out slow with his thrusts, gradually building up to hard poundings that had Renoir shaking and his shell skidding across the blanket he was laying on. Above him, Raphael was panting and groaning, the sight of him completely and utterly devoid of the composure he once had so intoxicating that Renoir felt like he was drunk, which seemed to also be the case for Raphael.  
     Heat built up in Renoir's groin with each thrust of Raphael's cock into his prostate, the pulsating and squeezing overstimulating his dick to the point that it hurt— desperate, he shouted, "Ma- _Master,_ i-it _hurts,_ f-feels good and hurts!"  
     Raphael didn't answer, just moaned and kept up his feverish, sloppy pace of slamming into Renoir, his motions erratic until he pushed in one last time and jerked, his head lolling forward and a weak whine rolling out of his chest. Renoir felt sticky warmth flood deeply inside of him, so deep it was almost unbelievable— it felt so good that it was embarrassing how much he was getting aroused by it. "Renoir," Raph's voice was quivering, as was the rest of him.  
     "Yeah?" Renoir answered, twitching as Raph pulled out of his ass.  
     Raphael fell back on his ass beside Renoir and pulled him up and then into his lap, cradling his face in his hands with an expression of soft desire. "I love you," He told him.  
     "You... love me?" Renoir's eyes widened.  
     Raphael nodded as he said, "Yer da only person I can ever count on, th' only one who can understand me, 'n I want ya to be with me... forever,"  
     The look on Renoir's face was one of profound sentiment. Smiling shyly, he wrapped his arms around Raphael's neck and hugged him as tightly as he could, Raph reciprocating with his arms locked tightly around his shell. With heads rested against each other, they sat under the snowy sky together, the music from Renoir's speakers the only sound in the empty night.

      _"Be my serene_  
      _Tell me you know what I mean_  
      _You've set on me but you are not the sun_  
      _And you will not listen_  
      _(Burn it down) Outside your cold lips again_  
      _(Come around) You've set on me but you are not the sun_  
      _You will not listen."_

      _"Just pretend that you love me."_

**Author's Note:**

> title is from the song "I Am A Nightmare"  
> First set of lyrics from "Good To Know That If I Ever Need Attention, All I Have To Do Is Die"  
> second set is from "Seventy Times 7"  
> third set is from "Not The Sun"  
> All songs by the band Brand New


End file.
